


Sing Me To Sleep

by inoreuct



Series: Of Warriors and Angels [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police & Yakuza, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Anxiety, Daichi help him please send kisses and cuddles, Depression, Established Relationship, Goddamn this boy has issues why do I do this to him, Happy Ending, I swear I didn't mean for it to get so dark I'm sorry, M/M, Married Couple, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sawamura Daichi is a Good Significant Other, Secret Relationship, Self-Destruction, Self-Doubt, Self-Hatred, Suga is horny and depressed at the same time, Tattoos, daisuga - Freeform, self-care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:22:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28593939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inoreuct/pseuds/inoreuct
Summary: Yakuza are deadly, bloodthirsty, vicious.But what if they don't want to be?Sugawara Koushi is the oyabun of the Silver Crows, the most dangerous yakuza syndicate Miyagi has ever seen.And his husband just so happens to be the Chief of the Miyagi Prefectural Police Force.
Relationships: Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Series: Of Warriors and Angels [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1969135
Comments: 9
Kudos: 52
Collections: My favorite haikyuu fics





	Sing Me To Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; Pinterest is a godsend. I saw a prompt (what’s new amiright) and then I read The Boy in Striped Pyjamas for a school book report, and I kinda got inspired to try a new writing style! It’s 12:46 a.m. and I still haven’t finished the actual book report, so I’ll leave this here for you to enjoy while I go die :)

The gritty tarmac was slick beneath his boots, harsh street lights reflecting off the wavering puddles pooling all over the ground. Oil-streaked water splashed up around Sawamura Daichi’s calves as he jogged towards the side entrance of a warehouse, his gun clasped in his hands and held in front of him at the ready. Kinoshita Hisashi and Nishinoya Yuu, the two of his subordinates that had been dispatched for recon, were already waiting for him. They seemed both pissed off and forlorn, Kinoshita pinching the top of his bridge between two fingers and Noya pacing back and forth, his boots tapping against the grimy ground. 

They both tensed as they heard Daichi approach, hands flying to their holsters before they realised who was running towards them. “Sorry, Daichi-san,” Noya grumbled, the normally cheerful man’s face pinched in an uncharacteristic frown as Daichi holstered his gun. “We couldn’t find anything. They got out before we could get the drop on them...” He trailed off in uncertainty, flashing Kinoshita a wan smile as the other man gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder. 

The warehouse by the docks was one of the many that belonged to the most dangerous _yakuza_ syndicate in Miyagi. The Silver Crows were notorious for their viciousness and lack of mercy; if they had actual feathers, all their plumes would be soaked in blood, both metaphorical and literal. If there was an unexplained death in the city, the Crows were the culprit more often than not. It certainly didn’t help that they had an extremely specific method of murder; all their victims were found with both their eyes gouged out, their throats slit, viciously disembowelled and with a (creepily realistic) bloody crow carved into their chests by the slashes of a blade. 

The problem was, the crows were the only lead they had to tie the _yakuza_ syndicate to the murders, and that wasn’t enough to bring the known members to court for murder trials. The Silver Crows killed and left without a trace, and the victims were always found alone in an enclosed space, like a room that had been locked from the inside. None of them were ever caught in the act; they were all ghosts, appearing and vanishing like smoke in the wind, but nobody could deny their existence. No-one knew what motives they had; all people knew was that members had a total of five crows tattooed across their bodies. The Miyagi Prefectural Police Force had been trying to shut them down for quite some time, and as the Chief of Police, Daichi was in charge of and responsible for the whole operation. 

It wasn’t unusual for the Crows to slip their grasp; somehow, they always managed to get away before any police raids, leaving their abandoned hideouts deceptively innocent-looking. Daichi didn’t look too torn up about it, though; in the dim light of the port’s streetlamps, he almost looked like he was smiling. “It’s alright, let’s just go home and call it a day, yeah?” he suggested, clapping fatherly hands on Noya and Kinoshita’s backs before smoothing down the immaculate front of his navy uniform.

Daichi let a small sigh slip from his lips as he looked out over the ocean, a cool breeze running teasing fingers through his short hair and whispering its secrets in his ears. The sea was dark and steady, its satin depths undulating in an unseen rhythm that mere mortals couldn’t hear. “Alright, lads, I’d better head home. I have a prior engagement…” 

Kinoshita chuckled softly, carding his hand away from his face with a rake of his fingers. “If I didn’t know how busy you are, I’d say you have a woman waiting for you.” 

Noya burst into boisterous laughter, and Daichi grinned, deigning to say nothing as they turned around and started walking back towards their cars.

Behind them, the sea rolled on.

*

Sugawara Koushi silently scaled the side of an apartment building, his nimble fingers seeking minute handholds in the dusty red brick. It was one of the rare days when his close-fitting black top and cargo pants weren’t stained with blood, and he didn’t leave a single trace of his presence. He could feel the hilts of his assorted daggers and knives pressing against his lean form as he climbed; the Crows were a syndicate that specialised in using blades rather than firearms, and a Crow would never let themself get caught without having multiple blades hidden and concealed all over their body. 

As the _oyabun_ of the Silver Crows, Suga had to lead by example. He had inherited the title after his parents had passed away in a skirmish with the Miyagi Prefectural Police Force when he was twenty, and that was three years ago. Now, he smirked as he slipped his fingers underneath the unlatched windowpane, inching it upwards just enough for him to slip inside, the rubber soles of his black plimsolls touching the ground soundlessly. _Fool. Even an amateur would be able to get in…_

He had business to settle with the Chief of Police. Suga let himself ponder about what he would do to Daichi as he crept into the living room, the entire apartment pitch dark. Perhaps he’d tie the man to the bed frame, stuff a gag in his mouth so that the neighbours wouldn’t hear him scream. The silver-haired man’s smirk widened as he stepped over the creaky floorboard that had nearly gotten him caught a few too many times. Yes, that was exactly what he’d do. He’d bind Daichi’s wrists and ankles together with rope and—

Suga took a sharp breath as large hands clamped around his waist and spun him around, tensing as a palm was suddenly wrapping around his slender neck, thumb pressing down on his Adam’s apple. 

“Gotcha.” 

Suga’s absurdly long pewter lashes fluttered. He found himself staring up into deep mahogany eyes as Daichi tightened the hand around his throat. “Hello, Officer. Well, now that you’ve got me… What are you gonna do with me, hmm?” He felt Daichi tense against him as he pressed the tip of the knife he’d managed to slip from his waistband against the other man’s stomach. 

_Oh. He’s shirtless._ Suga let his eyes flick downwards momentarily. Daichi was still in his uniform pants and cap, but he’d taken off his shirt, and Suga was finding it rather hard to believe that the knife he was holding to Daichi’s torso was going to be able to do a thing when it was going up against those abs. _He is very much shirtless._ His teeth sank into his bottom lip. _Fuck._

They were locked in a staredown. Suga could stab Daichi, and Daichi could also choke him to death. Neither of them were letting up.

Or at least not until Daichi dropped the hand at Suga’s throat in favour of pressing it flush to his waist instead. His eyes softened, turning creamy and warm like Suga’s favourite hot cocoa as he leaned down to brush a soft kiss across his husband’s lips.

“You’re late, Kou,” Daichi admonished quietly. “It’s 11, you promised me that you’d be back at 9.” The policeman’s brows were scrunched in disapproval, thumbs stroking firmly across Suga’s hips. 

The _oyabun_ bobbed his head in reluctant admission. “I know, I know, but I had to make sure everything— no, every _one_ was settled before I came home—”

“You know it’s not good for you when you push yourself too hard. They can take care of themselves.”

Suga exhaled, stepping away from the wall and into Daichi’s embrace, wrapping his arms around his husband’s strong torso and digging his fingertips into the muscle of his back. “I know. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t worry about them.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Daichi murmured into Suga’s hair, burying his nose in the thick silver waves before taking a deep breath. “You’ll always be the Mama Crow—” Daichi got cut off as Suga pulled back and chopped a hand into his side, the breath wheezing out of him in strangled laughs. He scrambled back when Suga lifted his hand again, chin jutted out in pouty defiance. “It’s true!” 

The silver-haired man strode forward, both hands raised in warning. “Sawamura Daichi, I am going to _break your ribs_ —”

“You’re gonna have to catch me first!”

Daichi went skittering around the corner with a loud guffaw, and Suga kicked his sneakers off to chase after him. He followed Daichi up the stairs of their loft apartment and skidded around the corner into the short hallway leading to their bathroom, but he stilled at the sight of red rose petals scattered across the parquet floor, white candles casting flickering shadows across the wall, glowing with soft golden light. He cautiously stepped on the bare spots of the floor, following the trail of petals to their bathroom. 

Their sizable bathtub was filled with bubbles and rose petals, the alluring scents of rosehip, vanilla and shea butter wafting to Suga’s nose. Lit candles had been placed everywhere, and Daichi was busy laying a fluffy white bathrobe on the marble sink, humming softly under his breath. Suga recognised the tune; it was the song his mother had used to sing to him when he had trouble sleeping as a child. He’d told Daichi about it one night, when his nightmares had woken him up again. They were slightly different each time, but they all had one thing in common; Suga’s parents’ deaths, over and over, in a thousand and one different ways. Some nights they died silently, while on others they screamed loud enough to convince Suga that his ears were bleeding, but he always woke up anyways, drenched in cold sweat and gasping for breath.

Daichi made it better, though. He made everything better; the pain of losing and missing both of his parents, the crushing stress of becoming a _yakuza_ boss and running a syndicate at only twenty-one. And the next time Suga woke up in the middle of the night, Daichi was right there next to him, that familiar melody spilling from his lips as he cradled Suga in his arms and let him sob against his shoulder, held him together and stopped him from shattering into a million pieces. 

Suga brought a hand to his lips. “Dai… Did I forget our anniversary?”

Daichi chuckled, walking forward to cup Suga’s awestruck face between his palms. “No, I just wanted to spend some time with you.” He brought his fingers to the hem of Suga’s T-shirt. “Arms up, Mama Crow.” 

Suga scowled at him playfully but lifted his arms anyway, his lower lip filling out into a pout. “If you were anyone else, I’d have your tongue ripped out for the insolence.” 

Daichi grinned devilishly, pulling the shirt up over his husband’s head and casting it aside before leaning down to press a kiss to the underside of Suga’s jaw. “Mmm… but you and I both know that you love the things I do to you with my tongue too much to ever rip it out.”

The _oyabun_ shuddered, but he gently pushed Daichi away, placating him with a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t tempt me, Dai, not unless you don’t wanna get any sleep tonight.” 

With a cheeky wink over his shoulder, Suga hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his cargo pants and wiggled them down his legs, taking his boxers along with them. He toed them aside with a flick of his ankle and lowered one foot into the water; it was the perfect temperature, just the way he liked it. He could tell that there were Epsom salts and essential oils in the water as soon as he slid in, and he let a small groan of appreciation slip from his lips. It was too easy to let himself settle back against the lip of the tub and tilt his head back, listening to the soothing white noise of Daichi undressing and sliding into the bath behind him. 

Daichi allowed himself a moment to admire the strokes of obsidian that covered Suga’s shoulder blades, five crows sketched out onto his skin. There were other tattoos too; swirling whorls of ink that formed a supernova right behind his ribs, the thorny vines of black roses that crept around the edges of his neck, and one more. Right there at the base of his spine, the _kanji_ characters of Daichi’s name tattooed in a vertical line. Daichi had one of Suga’s name on his back, too; they had gotten the tattoos on the same night that they’d gotten married on a whim, half-delirious with giddy laughter and drunk off each other’s company. They had run away to Sendai just for a night ( _what are the Crows rich for_ , Suga had said, _other than to charter a helicopter to take us to another city in the middle of the night?_ ), to a church where nobody knew who they were. An old priest had bonded them for life, and they’d hopped straight to the tattoo parlour after they kissed in front of the altar; it was too risky to wear wedding rings that would raise too many questions. 

But as Daichi studied Suga’s tattoos, he couldn’t ignore the tension that was coiling his husband’s muscles tight under his skin. “Lean forward a bit for me, Kou,” he whispered to Suga, who had situated himself rather comfortably on the broad expanse of Daichi’s chest. When he leaned over, Daichi dipped a hand in the soapy water to get it wet and set his thumbs to Suga’s shoulders, pressing and kneading the stress out of his back. The _oyabun_ melted under his touch, soft hums occasionally escaping his chest. 

“You’re a good _yakuza_ boss, y’know. They’re lucky to have you,” Daichi murmured, cupping water in his hand so that he could smooth it over Suga’s freshly-destressed, soapy shoulders. He reached over to the ledge in the wall to get a pump of shampoo, scooping water into Suga’s hair before raking the coconut-scented gel through it, fingers rubbing gently at his scalp. 

The other man sighed, leaning back into Daichi’s touch. “...I’ll never understand how you love me, some days.” Daichi’s fingers stilled, before continuing their rubbing. “I’ve done _so many_ horrible things, and—”

“Kou.” 

Suga bit down on the inside of his cheek, eyes flitting around the bathroom.

“Koushi, everything you’ve done is to protect your family. You’ve never killed innocents, have you?” Daichi guided Suga to lean back against his chest, ignoring the shampoo foam that got everywhere. 

“That doesn’t make it _right_ , Dai.” 

Daichi’s arms tightened around his husband. Suga got like that sometimes, when he questioned himself; his decisions, his choices, the life he was born into. And he especially questioned if Daichi would be better off without him, better off without having to lie in the faces of all of his colleagues and disobey his orders just to be with a _yakuza_ member. And if there was one thing that Daichi hated, it was when Suga felt unworthy of all the love and affection his husband showered him with, because he was _well_ worth all the effort and more. “Well, all I know is that I fell in love with a boy that I met on the roof of our school hall, with beautiful hair and beautiful eyes and _a good heart_.”

Suga felt a tear make its way down his cheek, felt Daichi wipe it away with a gentle blot of his lips. He pretended it was just bathwater. He let himself lean back and drift away in the soothing sensation of water trickling over his scalp as Daichi rinsed off his hair. He let himself fade into his memories. 

*

_Suga climbed up the ladder, his shoes clanging noisily against the metal rungs. It didn’t take long for him to reach the roof of the school hall, the place where he normally went to clear his mind after a long day. Except that day, someone else was already there._

_The dark-haired boy whipped his head around, his eyes widening infinitesimally. “Oh… hello.”_

_Suga was appalled. He went there to clear his mind and then he found_ this _?! “...I’m sorry, what are you doing in my spot?”_

 _The boy snorted, but it wasn’t mean. “_ Your _spot? It’s a roof. There’s plenty of space for the both of us.”_

_He turned back to the sunset, and Suga could see the bleeding colours reflected in his brown eyes, turning his irises to gold, the colour of sunlight through honey. His resolute tone made Suga sure that he wasn’t going to budge, so the seventeen-year-old silver-haired boy begrudgingly settled himself a good distance away._

_But Suga was a curious, sociable creature by nature, and he couldn’t stand silence for long, especially when there was another person to talk to. “Sawamura Daichi, right?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_Now Suga felt stupid. It would have been incredibly embarrassing to not know Daichi’s name, considering the fact that they’d been going to the same high school for the past two years._

_“Something on your mind?” Daichi was looking over to him, his eyes warm._

What am I supposed to say? That my parents are both murderers and I’m next in line to be the _oyabun_ for a _yakuza_ gang? _He obviously couldn’t say that, so Suga settled for a vague, ambiguous, “Yeah.”_

_As it turned out, the silence wasn’t too bad after a while. More comforting than anything else. Suga was more okay with it than he had been okay with_ anything _in a long while._

*

Suga and Daichi had met on a roof when they were seventeen, and they’d spent their first hours together gazing at a fading sunset. Suga had sat rather far away from Daichi at first, but as the days flew by, that distance closed up until they were perched side by side, legs swinging over the edge of the roof, sharing a pack of gummy bears. The details had begun to flow; Daichi’s favourite ice-cream flavour, Suga’s favourite school subject, their most despised hour of the day and other random things, too. But the one thing they had never brought up was their families. 

It had become somewhat of an unspoken agreement to leave that subject unbreached, and for nearly four years, Daichi and Suga knew nothing of each other’s backstories. Yet, they grew closer and closer until they could no longer deny that their little brushes and touches and the occasional cheek kiss were no longer platonic. It wasn’t until that one fateful night, that skirmish between the police and the Crows, did they see each other on the front lines, on opposite sides of a battle. 

That night, Daichi and Suga lost their parents. Daichi’s mother and father were both in the police force, and as an officer himself, he had watched them get stabbed to death right before his eyes. But perhaps some would call that the more merciful outcome compared to Suga’s case. The silver-haired man had stumbled upon his parents’ bodies, both of them laid side by side like soldiers laying down for a well-deserved rest, their hands intertwined. They had died from bullet wounds, but Suga would never be able to ascertain exactly _how_. His mind did the work for him, plaguing him with nightmares of all the possible ways they could have died. 

Daichi’s father had been the previous Chief of Police, and it was only natural for Daichi to be next in line for the position. It was Suga’s duty to step up as the next _oyabun_ of the Silver Crows, but they couldn’t pull away from each other; they had become so entangled, fishing lines cast out from opposite ends of an island, yet somehow managing to get knotted together. 

Suga let his eyes flutter open, squinting against the bathroom lights as he realised that Daichi was working conditioner through his hair, slicking the wet strands away from his face. He chuckled mirthlessly. “We’re hilarious. The Chief of Police and the _oyabun_ of the Silver Crows, _married_. Imagine the scandal this would cause if word got out…”

Daichi sighed softly, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “I’ve always known you were trouble, Kou. And I love you for it all the more.” 

Suga could no longer pretend that the tears on his face were bathwater. It was becoming rather hard to breathe through the burning in his chest, but Daichi was there, so it would be okay. Suga would never be able to fathom what Daichi saw in him. He was chaotic, slightly insane (and most definitely considered a psychopath in his eyes), had too many issues to count and more blood on his hands than Daichi would ever see out of a human body, not to mention the entire ‘boss of a Japanese mafia’ thingy. But he was grateful and he always would be for the man that was cradling him gently and whispering sweet nothings in his ear as he cried. 

Daichi’s heart ached. It cried out for Suga, because the man he loved was crying quietly into his chest and there was nothing he could do but offer words of comfort and a safe space. But maybe that was enough. 

“D-Daichi?” 

“Yes, love?” 

Suga sniffed, rubbing at his nose and clearing his throat. “Thank you for loving me.” 

_Koushi…_ Daichi pulled Suga into his lap, thighs on either side of his waist, letting his husband curl into his chest. “Thank you,” he began, running a hand through Suga’s hair, still slippery and smooth with conditioner, “Thank you for letting me love you and loving me back.” 

Suga pouted, but Daichi was relieved to see that playful gleam back in his eye. “Thank you for thanking me for letting you love me and loving you.” 

The police officer grinned. “Thank you for thanking me for thanking you for letting me love you and loving me back.”

“Thank you for thanking me for thanking you for thanking me for loving me and— Wait.” Suga giggled, blinking in exaggeration. “Wait, crap—” he interrupted himself with a(n utterly adorable) sneeze, and Daichi realised that the water had gotten rather cold. 

“Alright, come on,” he muttered, hoisting his husband up to his feet and grabbing the showerhead. “That’s enough depressoing for today.”

Suga stared at him blankly. “Depressoing…?” 

“Yeah,” Daichi bobbed his head, doing a strange little sort of wiggle that had Suga snorting. “Y’know? Like… depresso espresso?” 

“I thought it was _more_ espresso, _less_ depresso.” 

“Pfffffft.” Daichi flapped a hand dismissively, turning on the showerhead. “Details schmetails.” 

Suga wasn’t buying the nonchalant act at all, but he was grateful either way. And he had to admit, he did feel better after crying; he always did. He just hated how weak it made him feel. But it felt good to mess around with Daichi, to just splash water at each other and have _fun_. He nearly slipped when he was getting out of the bathtub, and Daichi somehow nearly managed to slip back _in_ after he got _out_. By the time they were both dried off and dressed, Suga’s stomach was aching from all the laughing he’d done.

Daichi hugged him from behind as he reached for his moisturiser that was sitting on the countertop, dabbing it onto his skin and rubbing it in. Suga twisted around and tried to put some on Daichi’s face too, although his husband inevitably tried to dodge him. 

“Stay still!”

“No!”

“Come on, you’re gonna get all dry and wrinkly and—”

Daichi ducked under Suga’s arms, twisting away and batting gently at his hand. “I’d rather eat it!”

A mischievous glint twinkled in Suga’s eye as he picked up the entire tub of moisturiser and held it out to Daichi. “That can be arranged.” 

“...You can put it on my face.” Daichi wasn’t used to skincare at all, but Suga’s laugh made it all worth it. 

The clock on the countertop read 2 a.m., but neither of them were tired. “Well, what do you wanna do now?” Suga asked, rearranging all his serums and creams and mists by the sink. 

Daichi grabbed his wrist and pulled him in close, his left hand holding Suga’s right one aloft, the other resting on his husband’s hip. “Dance with me.” 

“With no music?” Suga’s lips grew into that smile again, the smile that meant he really was feeling relaxed and happy.

“We can make our own,” Daichi suggested, starting to sway on the spot. 

“I found a love,” he sang quietly, wrapping his arm tighter around Suga’s waist, “for me, oh darling just dive right in, and follow my lead.” His voice bounced around the tiled bathroom, rich and deep and soothing and grounding and sounding like all the good things in the world.

“Well, I found a man, beautiful and sweet. But I always knew you were the someone waiting for me.” Daichi let his eyes slide shut and buried his face in Suga’s sweet-smelling hair. He didn’t need his voice to be loud, because his words were for Suga only and they always would be.

“‘Cause we were just kids when we fell in love, not knowing what it was, I will not give you up this time. So darling just kiss me slow, your heart is all I own, and in your eyes, you’re holding mine.”

Suga smiled into the crook of Daichi’s neck as his husband started singing the chorus of their favourite song, the song that Suga’s father sang to his mother all the time, the very chorus that his mother sang to him on all those sleepless nights. It was easy to conceal his tears now that the candles had all burned down low, but he didn’t want to. Not when he was so happy he felt like his heart could burst. 

“Baby, I’m dancing in the dark, with you between my arms.”

Suga let himself get caught up in the momentum, swaying along with Daichi easily. 

“Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favourite song.”

Maybe Suga was broken. There was no doubt that he’d done some horrible, inhumane things. But if Daichi thought that he was worth saving, worth _fixing_ … Then maybe it was time that he stopped hating himself too. 

“When you said you looked a mess, I whispered underneath my breath, but you heard it, darling you look perfect.” 

Daichi smiled softly. Suga had fallen asleep against his chest, looking content and peaceful. _Don’t you see? You’re all I’ve ever wanted._ His voice was less than a whisper, breathed into Suga’s ear like a blessing. “I don’t deserve this, darling you look perfect tonight.” 

Daichi carefully scooped his husband into his arms, carrying him to their bed and tucking him in before climbing in himself. Looking at Suga, he could hardly believe that the man before him was the _oyabun_ of one of the most dangerous _yakuza_ gangs in history, with his multiple sweetly-scented self-care products and his fluffy bathrobes and his pouts. Suga looked so pure and innocent with his silver hair spread out over his pillow, full lips slightly parted as he breathed. But Daichi knew that there was a devil hidden under that angel’s visage, one that would tie him to the bed frame and ride him until the sun rose and they both passed out from pleasure (Suga had actually done it once, on Daichi’s birthday), one that would kill without mercy to protect the people he loved. 

  
Daichi had never been a rule-breaker, but he would burn the world to the ground for Sugawara Koushi, damn everything else to hell. He would spend however long it took to heal Suga, to bring back his true smile that only appeared in glimpses recently, to bring back that bright glow to his eyes. But for now, Suga cuddling into him on the mattress with a soft smile curving his lips was enough. _It’s enough. You are more than enough for me, Koushi._

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a funny fic. A Daisuga fluff fic. Believe me when I say I didn’t mean to make it this angsty, but I am a raging mess of chaos and angst and anxiety and sleep deprivation and misplaced priorities please send help—
> 
> I don’t know if I’m going to continue this fic or leave it as a one-shot, but I’ll definitely need to finish my other planned works first (god knows I have a lot of them; I procrastinated the last chapter of my Tsukkiyama fic for this ehehehehehehe) 
> 
> But don’t worry! I’m definitely gonna keep writing more Daisuga shenanigans, so stick around ;) (but that’s gonna be after my Sakuatsu + Osasuna and Bokuaka + Kuroken fics that I have planned >:))


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